Yet he pondered over the question. If he gave up Louisa it should be to some one who would make it an exchange to his advantage. He was not sure but that he could turn a pretty penny in the transaction. Just how, he could not at once decide, but it would surely be a queer thing, in that country where women were at a premium, if he could not dispose of his daughter’s hand to his own betterment, a girl whose accomplishments were such as appealed to every householder in the county. He had been living very quietly since Louisa’s sojourn with him. He had been compelled to do this, he reflected, for she was too straightforward and honest to approve of any shady transactions, and, once he aroused her suspicions in any of his dealings, she would be direct enough, not only to charge him with them, but to report them. Yet this virtuous existence was growing monotonous. He was not sure but that he preferred the uncertainty of a reckless life with no one to answer to; there was at least excitement in it, and greater profits, if there were greater risks. The novelty of possessing a daughter was wearing off and the difficulties were beginning to present themselves. Marry her to the highest bidder and he could renew his old life and settle her future. And this was the way matters stood during that summer which saw Ira and Neal and John with the Texas Rangers, doing duty, while Jabez Manypenny paid court to Louisa and feared no rival. One-legged Bud Haley kept Christine and Alison informed as to the movements in the neighborhood. As an enforced stay-at-home he performed a sort of detective service for the settlement, and little escaped his vigilant eye. Louisa’s affairs were of particular interest to him, since she had been a member of the Ross household and what concerned John Ross concerned Bud, who was under more than one obligation to his friend and nearest neighbor. Bud, likewise, championed Ira Korner’s cause and was indignant that Jabez Manypenny should receive the smallest attention at the hands of Louisa.